Brotherhood, Memory, and the Invitation That Never Stops

The first Sunday of a new year often carries a quiet weight—part expectation, part reflection. On this Sunday, we accepted an invitation to worship at Mt. Pleasant Primitive Baptist Church, nestled along McDonald Road, within the historic footprint of one of Bastrop County’s Freedom Colonies. What unfolded inside those walls felt less like a visit and more like a homecoming.

From the moment we were greeted, warmth filled the room. Smiles were easy. Handshakes lingered. As we took our seats, childhood memories began to surface unannounced. I leaned over and shared that as a child, I attended Fatih Hope Holiness Church in Spring Hope, North Carolina with my grandmother, faithfully. Children were required to sit near the pulpit, close enough to be seen—much like the deacons seated near the front of Mt. Pleasant that morning. The floor plan felt familiar. The spirit felt familiar.

I recalled how, early in the service, children would be called to stand one by one and recite a scripture. We all competed quietly to be first, hoping to claim the shortest verse in the Bible: “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). We laughed softly together as he shared that, in his childhood church, they were never allowed to get off that easily.

During introductions of guest, Mr. Reed stood before the congregation and introduced us—not with formality, but with sincerity. His heart’s desire was simple and profound: to worship alongside a dear friend. His invitation had been extended more than once, patiently and without pressure, until the moment finally came. This time, the invitation included not only his friend, but his friend’s partner—someone who would accept not merely out of courtesy, but out of love and respect for the man who asked. Together, we entered the house of the Lord, side by side.

As worship continued, I found myself smiling—resting in the presence of a God who can do all things. The dual message resonated deeply: a believer should never fight a battle that belongs to God. God works through prayer. He moves in His time. His Will will be done.

The choir ministered through song—“Thank You Lord”—setting the tone before the sermon began. Then came the scripture: Psalm 133:1

“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity.”

The pastor titled his message “Brotherhood Unity.” It was fitting—not only for the first Sunday of the year, but for the moment itself. He spoke directly to the men of the church, calling them to strength, faith, and togetherness. Unity, he reminded us, is both good and pleasant—aligned with God’s creation and pleasing to His spirit. It is not passive. It requires effort, humility, and love.

Brotherhood, he explained, is more than shared space. It is shared responsibility. Men are called to be spiritual leaders—not only in the church, but in their homes. To care for their families. To encourage one another. To put others before themselves. To stand together even when the journey is hard.

As we moved through the worship service, one truth emerged with unmistakable clarity: the invitation into the family of God should never be aggressive. It is offered repeatedly, like water poured patiently onto a seed. Sometimes the seed sprouts. Sometimes it withers. Sometimes it requires continual care. But God never stops extending the invitation to His children. He waits. He provides. He meets daily needs until the choice is made freely.

And this much I know: with every invitation offered, received, and accepted by my partner, you have my word—he will never arrive alone.

At my home church, First Baptist Church of Copperas Cove, there is sometimes a short video shared with the congregation illustrating a simple truth: some messages take forty cups of coffee. They take time. Repetition. Faithfulness.

So let this be the message carried forward:

You never stop extending the invitation.

You never stop praying.

And you never fight the battles that belong to God.

Thank you, Mr. Reed, beyond measure, for the invitation that Sunday. Thank you for the kind words shared with the congregation. Thank you, Pastor Herndon, for reminding us—through brotherhood, unity, and quiet persistence—that walking in the light is something we do together.